White Whither
by Lake Strauss
Summary: Just a man in his car on a rainy day... (One Shot)


The sky was dark and clouds were growling like they were disturbed. Piltover was - as usual - busy like tomorrow was no promise, the traffic was not moving at all. Graves grips the steering wheel and lean forward, the traffic was not going to move smoothly in near time. He released a sigh and lean at his seat, times like these made him wanting to live at Bilgewater once again. He looked at the rear mirror and the sight was expected, more cars were coming to join the party.

Graves knew what to do in times of boredom, he would lit a cigar. The city had some restrictive law on inhalants, especially when it involves on burning a certain substance. Drugs was not something that Graves was interested. The thing was digusting to him and being high was not a feeling that he would like to feel. But cigars was something entirely different, utterly undeniably different.

Graves could be said a savant on tasting rolled aged tobbaco. To him, it was a work of art. The only reason why cigarettes was not to his liking because it was factory made, making each one without quality or value. He cannot deny that some cigarettes were good but cigars were his type. But well, to spoil his hobby, the city made a ridiculous tax rate for cigars. The price for a dozen can sometimes reach absurd amount, even for an enthusiast like Graves. But of course, Graves was not a good man to begin with.

Graves knew the connections and already he had found a bargain sale of cigars. Smugglers from Zaun got him his most favourite cigar at the lowest price. Basically he was smoking the cheapest high quality cigar tax free. He did not like rules ever since he was young so to follow it now when he was a fully grown man was highly unlikely. Just thinking about it made him giggle alone in his car like a madman. Graves reaches down his seat where there was a small box. He put it on top of his lap and since the traffic was not moving, he pulled the handbrake.

Graves open the box and all of his cigars were there, dry and safe. Well he has a lot of stash to begin with, one at his house, one at his car and many others that he wanted to keep secret just in case. Inside the box were cigars stacking on top of each other, long and thick. The cigars had aged oak color, with each cigars has it own color of lining. The lining shows what taste would it have when burnt, gold, silver, red, black and even purple. All of which had its own unique taste where Graves made sure to smoke it at a specific occasion.

On this boring occasion, Graves took the cigar where it had a white lining. Through his fingers, he felt the rough surface and could not wait to taste it. He glanced at the traffic to make sure he was not troubling anyone behind him. He closed the box and put it under the seat. He pat the box hoping it would stay where it should be and then resume with the cigar.

The cigar that he was holding called 'White Whither' and one of the most rarest cigar in Runeterra. The tobacco itself was white and was fine like sand. The wrapping was holding the fine tobbaco together and only enthusiast like Graves can handle the cigar. If one was careless, the structure of the cigar can crumble and all of the goodness would be like dust. His three fingers hold it in a specific way, making sure no extra pressure was stressing the cigar. He bit it not by his teeth but with his lips.

The Outlaw took out a matchbox, he like the old way lighting a cigar. Taking out a match, he scratch and it ignite the flame on the tip of the matchstick. He raised his chin so that the cigar would be inverted and then burn the tip of the cigar. The tip burnt slowly and the fire became blue as the tobacco being burnt. Then the flame stopped and the tip became blue and crispy. Graves lowered the window and throw away the matchstick. He let the window open for now.

With a smile on his face, Graves inhaled. The smoke enters his lung and he experienced the taste, cold like ice but has a sweet taste. He exhaled and the smoke was similar to a mist. The feeling of the first shot of a cigar was like no other, it urges him to continue. A puff, then another one, and then another one. He was smiling across his face. A thunder sounded, Graves looked outside and it was starting to rain. He slowly closed the window and look at the traffic, no movement at all.

Rain started to drop and it was getting heavier as the moment pass. The surrounding cars started to horn each other, wanting to end the misery of the traffic jam. Graves did not mind about it, he was enjoying every moment of it. With a cigar and the soft sound rain coming down, it was a calming atmosphere to have. The Outlaw was that type of man, a man who enjoys the little things.

The cigar that he was smoking was unique, when it burns, the ashe was so minimal that many people won't realize it. He suddenly remembered where the tobacco came from. Of all places, it orignated from Noxus. Even the cigar enthusiast realized how odd it was since Noxus was so obsessed with power and war. But he learned it many times that to not judge a book by it's cover. Graves visited the place once, beautiful hillside where the small village isolated itself from the havoc government that it had. God, Graves wished to go there one more time. Graves thought.

The village was a whole lot of different than the usual Noxus that people perceive. The air was fresh, the water was cool and clear and the meat was one of a kind. High Noon made good steak with good meat but the vilage had another kind of grilled meat. Just remembering it made him hungry.

After a few minutes of phasing out of the world, thinking about the good times of the pass. The rain started to stop and the sun was starting to show itself under the veil of the clouds. He raised his head to see the traffic and it was starting to move. And to his realization, his cigar was finished. Graves shook his head, time flies so fast. He open the window beside him and threw the cigar away, then closes it when he finished.

Graves hands was at the steering wheel and he could see the traffic was starting move. But he forgot something, why he was here to endure the traffic jam in the first place? The car started to shake suddenly.

"Mmhmph!!" a muffled shout sounded.

Graves looked back and remembered that there was a man in the trunk of the car. He was doing a job that had a hefty pay to do something with the man in the trunk. Graves smirk hearing how pathetic the man shout.

"Calm down will ya?" Graves said. "Don't worry, it won't take long."

Graves lowered the handbreak and get into the gear. The car infront of him started to move, the traffic seems to go smoothly. Graves put his foot on the accelarator and the car started to move. He was considering on having a trip to the village in Noxus but after the job was done of course.


End file.
